The story is not complicated, the plot is not ups and downs, and the ending is romantic and a little casual. What can leave an impression is the real collision of swords, which stimulates the muscles of the pupils and the flesh to fly. Unknowingly, I felt pity for my own flesh and blood, and I was fortunate to not live in that era when life was like a grass dog.
The cold weapon is direct and full of emotion, and a sword is carried around for years, and slowly it seems to be a part of his body. Unlike guns and bullets, which gun can kill with one bullet all the time? In those cultivation novels, there is also the method of feeding the sword with precious herbs and practicing magic. And once it is displayed, the human spirit and complex will be integrated with these cold weapons. Therefore, it is not the sword that the brother dances, but himself.
This reminds me of a scene in Saving Private Ryan where a German soldier slowly stabs a dagger into his chest during a fight with an American soldier. It was a shocking scene that challenged the vision. I remember that at that time, I was expecting that someone would rush in and save the American soldiers in the next moment, but the director was very determined, and the scene was so long that my chest was blocked. , and it seems that there has always been a dull "squeak" sound from the friction between the dagger and the flesh. Cold weapons, the exact explanation of the fragility of flesh and blood by nature.
We are very lucky (thanks to the country, thanks to the party, thanks to the organization, thanks to the leadership, thanks to the parents) to art those precarious existences in order to preserve our lives. How would we feel, in an age where the moments of our lives are not guaranteed? Persistence, grievances, seeking for perfection, and having fun in a timely manner, or bursting out of useless spirit and making a mess?
However, this gave me a little more insight to understand those performance artists who self-mutilated their bodies. It is said that they use a hook to hang themselves through the skin to feel the real existence of life with that kind of pain. Perhaps, only the coldness of the sword can truly understand the temperature of the soul. However, I was sitting in the air-conditioned room, drinking ginseng and soaking wolfberry, talking about this nonsense, the Roman soldier who was beheaded by the female guide must have wanted to come and take my head.
View more about Centurion reviews
